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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100344">Stairway to the Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/passioninprose/pseuds/passioninprose'>passioninprose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:21:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/passioninprose/pseuds/passioninprose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy recounts his journey to discovering that his broken heart can be made whole again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Let's build a stairway to the stars, and climb that stairway to the stars</em><br/>
<em>with love beside us to fill the night with a song.</em><br/>
<em>We'll hear the sound of violins out yonder, where the blue begins.</em><br/>
<em>The moon will guide us as we go drifting along.</em><br/>
<em>Can't we sail away on a lazy daisy petal over the rim of the hill?</em><br/>
<em>Can't we sail away on a little dream and settle high on the crest of a thrill?</em><br/>
<em>Let's build a stairway to the stairs, a lovely stairway to the stars.</em><br/>
<em>It would be heaven to climb to heaven with you.</em>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Jim's asked me again if I'm ever going to write up a memoir about my time spent up in the stars. I've told him before that I hardly see the need - should anyone wish to know what occurred during my time spent aboard the USS Enterprise, all they'd need to do is reference any of the other crewmember's published manifestos, or reference the now-infamous logs the Captain made all those years ago. Jim tells me he wants to see my side of it, but really, I don't see why. I've been painted up pretty well among all our old friends' musings, and I'm happy with their characterization of me - an old country doctor crazed half to death doing his damnedest to keep the ship's crew and their Captain alive through years of trials and tribulations. No, I think most everyone's already got the right idea of me. I'm happy to leave that as it is.</p>
<p>Besides, what Jim doesn't seem to understand is I've already written what I've wanted to publish - all of my recommendations for the proper organization and structure of Starfleet medical bays have been submitted through the proper channels, as well as been updated every time those damned engineers think they've come up with something better. I've also written some small number of articles which have found themselves published in a selection of medical journals, mostly detailing what I have come to know over the years about Vulcan and half-Vulcan physiology. My only wish in publishing words is that they will help someone out there in the endless expanse. That's all I want.</p>
<p>But his nagging's gotten me thinking, lately. I don't need to write a superfluous memoir, no, but as I'm sitting here now, maybe it's the years catching up with me, maybe it's the nostalgia of it all, maybe it's Jim's incessant desire to 'know what I think...'. There is something I'd like to put down.</p>
<p>Not to the world. No, what I'm thinking about writing isn't anything I'd like to see shared beyond me and, if they're lucky, my husbands. Though I don't think I'll be able to write much without Jim noticing and getting excited, and hell, I'm not going to ruin his fun. We've got time to kill before Spock gets back from his diplomatic relations with the Romulans, after all.</p>
<p>But it's not just for Jim's amusement that I'm thinking about writing something down. It's significant to me. I find myself thinking back to all those years ago and remembering the man I was. The broken man inside I didn't show. I think of him then, and I think of me now, and I think of the ways in which he has transformed over the years, and I realize it was through great effort of those two men I hold most dear to me. Jim and Spock. Without them, hell, I don't care to imagine what kind of sorry state I'd still be in. I recognize it was through their care that I've come to be who I am, and as I sit here now, I am grateful to them.</p>
<p>They both know it, already. They lived it, first hand. So did I, but, I don't know. Is this what happens when you get old? You reminisce?</p>
<p>Maybe I don't want to forget. Maybe I'm sitting here, happy, and I want to make sure that as I continue to get older, I don't forget everything they've done for me, I don't forget for one single second the hells I put them through. I may be contented now, but complacent? Never. Until I'm dead in the ground, I want to act in full awareness when it comes to these men. They deserve everything I give them and more.</p>
<p>So maybe that's it. I want to write about us. I want to write about how we came to be and where we went, and so long as I don't keel over somehow before I've finished, where we ended up.</p>
<p>I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I'm due for another heart in a couple of years. And if I keep managing to convince Jim and Spock that we've earned our time planet-side, well, my factor of risk stays pretty damn low.</p>
<p>Alright. Well, Jim, whenever you find this, because I know you will, you're welcome to keep reading. Same goes for you, Spock. There's nothing here you both don't already know.</p>
<p>Lord help me. Where to begin.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>author's note: Hello, dear reader. Along with Bones' musings, I'd like to offer a little introduction to what this story will be, as well as offer some explanation as to why it is being written.</p>
<p>This story is, overall, a story about broken heartedness and how one overcomes that with insight and the help of others. Specifically, it's Leonard McCoy's journey to healing his wounded heart through his relationships with James T. Kirk and S'chn T'gai Spock, as well as with other friends along the way. I plan to take Leonard through his time spent aboard the Enterprise from Star Trek TOS through Star Trek VI, although as this is a love story, obviously some divergence from strict canon will occur.</p>
<p>This story will take you through highs and lows, grand gestures and tender moments, peace and discord, betrayal and forgiveness. The scope of the story is heavily focused on those aspects of relationship, as the intimate emotional interplay between people, connection, is what I find most fascinating in life. I feel drawn to write this in a way that I haven't been drawn to write before. I need to tell this story. For me, for anyone like me who also needs to hear it. I need a story that says no matter what you've been through, and no matter the troubles you face along the way, if you are dedicated to truth and vulnerability, you will find love, and with the proper care, it will last.</p>
<p>And who deserves that story more than Leonard Horatio (Bones) McCoy, I say. No one! Never before and never will there be another character who deserves to just be happy, damnit.<br/>
I kid, but as a dedicated Bones aficionado since 2013, I am excited to tell this story through his lens. I think it'll work out well.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy. LLAP.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wasn't initially selected for the crew of the Enterprise, rather I was put up on Capella IV in a vain attempt to increase the Capellans' fondness for such lavishness as routine medical examinations or medical facilities. Alas, for all my efforts they remained unconvinced of my necessity in their culture, and as such it was determined after a few months that I would be transferred out.</p><p>Apparently I'd spent long enough hopping planets under Starfleet's purview that they thought it fit to give me something that seemed to me, at the time, a bit more stable - a position as Chief Medical Officer onboard a Constitution class cruiser, just one year in to its slated five to roam the known galaxy and beyond. I was taking someone's place, they told me. My predecessor had decided to retire after sixty years of service. I could hardly blame the man.</p><p>I met Jim and Spock for the first time coming aboard the Enterprise. I tried to keep as much queasiness from my expression as I could - I've always hated transporters - and I regarded my new Captain and a few senior officers who were awaiting my arrival.</p><p>"Permission to come aboard?" I asked, as was proper.</p><p>"Permission granted," Jim replied with a nod and a pleasant smile. "You must be Doctor McCoy, recently of Capella IV."</p><p>"That's right," I said as I approached him and offered my hand. He took it. "The name's Leonard, Leonard McCoy. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."</p><p>"James Kirk, and likewise, Doctor." Jim replied. With his other hand he motioned to his left, "This is Commander Spock, my first officer."</p><p>"Welcome aboard, Doctor," Spock said, regarding me with no discernible attitude. I released Jim's hand and offered it to Spock, unaware at that time of the cultural implications of such an act. Spock raised his eyebrow at me and kept his hands behind his back, and after a second I took my hand away and gave him a wary nod.</p><p>"The pleasure's all mine, I'm sure."</p><p>The eyebrow remained, and I thought to myself then that out of the two of them, I liked the Captain better. I turned back to him, who was watching us with a look of subtle amusement I'd come to know well. He then motioned toward Scotty, who stepped out from behind the transporter controls to shake my hand.</p><p>"Mister Scott, our Chief Engineer."</p><p>"A pleasure, Doctor McCoy" he told me warmly. "You can call me Scotty, that's how I'm known here."</p><p>"Well, thank you," I said, appreciative of his kindness after the awkwardness with one Commander Spock.</p><p>"And," Jim continued, drawing my attention back toward him, "your Head Nurse, Miss Christine Chapel."</p><p>Scotty patted my shoulder as I turned to greet Christine. I shook her hand. I could tell she was nervous, so I did my best to ease her concerns with a bit of decorum in my speech. "Nurse Chapel. It's a pleasure to meet you, I look forward to working with you."</p><p>"Thank you, Doctor McCoy. You can call me Christine." I smiled at her, and still with some nerves, I could tell, she returned it.</p><p>"Wonderful!" Jim stated, clapping his hands together. "I'll show you to your dispensary, Doctor, and then I expect Nurse Chapel will give you the grand tour."</p><p>"Yes, Captain," she said, withdrawing her hand and folding them both at her front.</p><p>"I'd be delighted," I said.</p><p>"Captain," Spock said to Kirk, "permission to return to the bridge."</p><p>"Granted, Mister Spock. I'll meet you there shortly. Now, this way, Doctor..."</p><p>Spock made his escape and Scotty waved the rest of us goodbye as Jim led Christine and I toward my new sickbay. He was gracious enough to talk me through the areas of the ship as we walked through it, and assured me that any inquiry I could possibly have regarding his ship could be answered by the ship's computer, accessible in my office and my quarters.</p><p>"Have you ever been aboard a Constitution-class cruiser, Doctor McCoy?" he asked me. I could see the fondness, the pride in his eyes even then.</p><p>"No, sir, nothing like this. I've mostly been shuttled around on transport ships."</p><p>"Ah," Jim said, and looked about his ship with warm regard. "I hope you come to appreciate her, Doctor. You will soon find she will serve you well."</p><p>"I'm sure she will," I assured him. Ah. One of those romantic-types of Captains, I thought to myself.</p><p>We arrived at the dispensary. Christine entered, but Jim took my shoulder in his hand and stopped me before I could follow her inside. "Doctor, if you aren't too tired after your introductions and daily duties, I'd like to see you for a drink at 2000."</p><p>A drink? I decided then I liked him even more than I'd thought!</p><p>"I'd like to know a bit more about you, Doctor. We are at a disadvantage, with the timing of your arrival."</p><p>"Of course, Captain, I'd be more than happy to. Where shall I meet you?"</p><p>"Here," he told me, and with a final pat on the shoulder, he gave me a nod in farewell. "Welcome to the Enterprise, Doctor McCoy."</p><p>"Thank you, Captain. Good day!"</p><p>"Good day."</p><p>He turned away, and I entered into my new sickbay with a broad smile. Some might have been intimidated by taking drinks with the ship's Captain the first day on the job, but I wasn't altogether too worried about it. He seemed like a pleasant enough fellow, and I'd learned over the course of years in the medical field how to listen to people, how to get them to keep talking about themselves. Unless the Captain was a mad drunk, or otherwise had some sort of hidden personality I'd yet to encounter, I expected I'd be just fine.</p><p>Christine introduced me to a waiting group of my new colleagues. I took the time to speak to each one, told them where I'd come from and learned a bit about each of their histories. I'd always found it helpful to offer a bit of yourself up front - it was nice to have an idea of the whole person when making initial connections, instead of sticking strictly to business. I told them all that as their CMO I had my ideas about the proper way of doing things, but that any one of them should always feel comfortable raising any point to me - I could be reasoned with, I assured them. Just not during emergencies, if you'd be so kind.</p><p>After all the introductions had been made, I turned my attention to the area about me. Nurse Chapel guided me through the facility - I recognized most of it as standard issue, familiar to me, and noted a few instances where I planned to request changes. Professional and personal preference, that was all. I'd been supplied with mostly good bones. </p><p>The day went on. I made a list of my proposed requisitions for my sickbay. I decided to wait until after we'd had our drinks to submit it to the Captain - give him a chance to warm up to me before I gave him something to be irritated by.</p><p>He arrived when he said he would - he found me setting up some of my personal effects in my office. I happened to be aligning Poor Yorick, my model human skull as he stepped in.</p><p>"Good evening, Doctor."</p><p>"Captain! Good evening."</p><p>Jim set down the two glasses he carried while I finished my fussing. "Please, sit down," I said to him with a wave of my hand. He pulled a flask from his pocket as he did, and I reached down in to my crate of belongings to produce a bottle of brandy, and placed it on my desk.</p><p>He gave a short, surprised laugh.</p><p>"If you don't mind, Captain, it'd be my pleasure to serve you this evening," I said with a smile. He tucked his flask back in to his pocket and replied, "Certainly. Thank you."</p><p>I was glad he took no offence. It was a bit of a gamble, but I hoped to show him my good taste in this first meeting of ours.</p><p>I poured his glass, and he waited as I poured mine and then joined him in sitting. He raised his glass to me, and I him.</p><p>"Cheers, Doctor McCoy."</p><p>"Cheers."</p><p>We drank, and almost as soon as his glass returned to the table, he was speaking.</p><p>"Doctor McCoy, do you mind if I ask where you come from? Your mannerisms remind me of a far-away home I left behind many years ago."</p><p>I smiled - I got that a lot. "Of course, sir. I'm Terran, I was born and raised in the state of Georgia. The University of Mississippi's my Alma Matter."</p><p>Jim's face lit up in recognition. "Of course! I'm from Iowa, myself."</p><p>"No kidding! It's a small galaxy after all." He laughed at my dumb joke, and I decided then that I thought we'd get along pretty well.</p><p>"What brought you out here, Doctor McCoy? Why leave the shaded groves and sweet air?"</p><p>"Please, call me Leonard," I told him, and took another sip of brandy.</p><p>"Leonard, of course. Call me Jim."</p><p>Jim! I'd been prepared to call him James - I suspected maybe he'd reached a similar conclusion regarding our growing rapport.</p><p>"Well, Jim, truth be told I was loathe to leave it, but I found myself in an impossible position, of sorts. I didn't have much choice."</p><p>Jim tilted his head at me, and something about the way he regarded me made me forget myself, made me forget that I usually saved this sort of thing for many more drinks than just one.</p><p>"I got divorced. It felt like she took every last bit of sanctuary I had down there."</p><p>"I see." He sounded understanding, rather than dismissive. I continued.</p><p>"It's been, what... ten years? More? And I haven't looked back."</p><p>Jim nodded at me, his brow furrowed in concern. "Any children?"</p><p>My stomach knotted up - I recognized then that I'd walked myself into a place I wasn't eager to continue much further down. "Yes," I said with a bit of a drawl, hoping he'd catch my reticence. "She lives with her aunt and uncle out on Cerberus. I couldn't bring her out here, you understand, shuttling her about on starships her whole childhood. It wasn't right."</p><p>"Of course. Forgive me, if I've asked too much."</p><p>I shook my head. "It's alright, Jim." We both took another sip of our drinks, and I asked him next, "What brought you out here, so far from home?"</p><p>Jim glanced down and gave a rueful smile before returning his gaze to me. "I've known for a long time what I was meant to do. Colony life wasn't enough."</p><p>I wouldn't understand for a while the full meaning of what he'd just told me, but I took the literal meaning and gave a nod. "A starship captain with an adventurer's spirit, eh? A fine quality to have, certainly. You're Academy stock, then, I take it?"</p><p>"Yes, I graduated in '55. The Enterprise is my first command."</p><p>"I see!" I lifted my glass to him. "In that case, I believe congratulations are in order. I've heard enough to know it's no walk in the park to earn your own command. Well done."</p><p>I could've sworn I saw his cheeks flush ever-so-slightly as he lifted his glass to mine and said demurely, "Thank you, Doctor." Humble, too!</p><p>We drank, and I helped myself to pouring us both a bit more brandy. Jim didn't put up any fuss.</p><p>"Doctor," he said as I returned the decanter to the desk, "these relics you have on display..."</p><p>I smiled and turned my head over my shoulder to glance at them. "I hope they don't disturb you, Captain."</p><p>"No," he said, "I would like to know a bit more about them. They aren't grim souvenirs, I trust."</p><p>"Oh no, no, all the craniums you see are models," I told him, standing to motion to Poor Yorick. "I may be an old country doctor, but I'm not as uncouth as all that."</p><p>Jim smirked as he took his glass and stood to join me. I informed him briefly about each model skull I'd collected, and I was surprised to find that his interest didn't wane, even as I motioned to the fourth one in. He was an intellectual, it seemed.</p><p>His gaze eventually wandered over to the other side of my office, where I'd hung up a collection of ancient medical supplies, needles, blades, syringes, all sorts of horrible, barbarous things I kept to remind myself of how far we'd come.</p><p>"Oh!" he said in surprise. He looked back to me with a bit of mischief in his expression. "You're sure you're not some old sawbones, then?"</p><p>"No, no," I assured him with a laugh. "Those are for display only. It's a reminder to do all one can to keep cruelty at bay as a healer, that's all."</p><p>"I see," he said warmly. We then stood there for a moment in silence, regarding one another with a curious, tentative fondness. I felt in that moment that I'd be happy to serve under someone like him, happy to continue taking drinks with him. I was grateful - it'd been a while since I'd had someone to so easily relate to. Capellans didn't know about Georgia's sweet air or shaded groves, that's for sure.</p><p>"Well, Doctor," Jim said, tipping his glass back to finish his drink, and I followed suit with him. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you."</p><p>"The pleasure's been all mine, Captain. I thank you for your geniality. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."</p><p>He held out his hand for my glass and I gave it to him. He gave me a nod. "Thank you. Be sure to rest well tonight, Doctor. You'll come to expect the unpredictable aboard this ship." He winked at me. I laughed, completely oblivious to the profound truth he'd just given me.</p><p>"Right you are, Captain. Goodnight, Jim."</p><p>"Goodnight."</p><p>It was late, but I hung around for a while longer after he'd gone, busying my hands with setting up the rest of my possessions about my office. My mind was altogether elsewhere.</p><p>Kindhearted, confident, intelligent. I was comparing Kirk to stories I'd heard over the years of other starship captains - not all of them bad, of course, but it truly seemed to me that I'd struck gold with this assignment. He was from Iowa! <em>Iowa!</em></p><p>I moved my decanter from my desk to the last empty place on the shelf behind me, then looked down to my PADD which held my pending requisition request. I shrugged and submitted it, fairly confident in my odds.</p><p>I bid good evening to the staff stationed for beta shift as I left sickbay. I wandered the halls, not lost, just taking my time, before finding my way to my quarters. I noticed with a jolt as I was scanning nameplates in my leisurely stroll that I was practically neighbors with one 'Commander Spock,' who apparently occupied the quarters one room over from me.</p><p>Damn, I thought to myself. I'd meant to ask the Captain if there was something I'd done to offend the Commander. Ah, well. I had time to make amends. And if we'd really gotten off to a bad start, well, I didn't reckon I'd see too much of him anyway in the course of my duties.</p><p>Oh, such naiveté.  </p><p>I did a bit more unpacking in my personal quarters, and wrote to Jo to tell her that I'd made it aboard the Enterprise safe and sound. I told her I'd made nice with the ship's captain, and that I expected I'd have an easier time than I had with the Capellans, which she knew all about. I told her I loved her, and I'd tell her more as I grew accustomed to this new place.</p><p>Finally, I did as the Captain requested of me and went to bed. I ended up taking an aid, as I couldn't seem to stop running conversations through my mind. Those little red pills really did the trick.</p><p>The next day, I was paged in my office within an hour of reporting to duty.</p><p>"Bridge to Doctor McCoy." It was Jim.</p><p>"McCoy here."</p><p>"Doctor, I've received your requisition request. Might I inquire in to one of your selections?"</p><p>"Of course, Captain." I was more than prepared to defend my choices.</p><p>"Two thousand wooden tongue depressors?"</p><p>I smirked. "Yes, sir. For all the advancements we've made, I've found there's still a lot you can tell by the state of a man's tonsils."</p><p>Jim was quiet for a moment, considering, then spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice, "Alright then, Bones."</p><p>I furrowed my brow. "Don't you mean 'old sawbones?'"</p><p>"Thank you, Doctor McCoy. Over and out."</p><p>A few minutes later, I got a notification that all my requests had been approved. Well, I'll be damned!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Friendship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Now, I said before that this wouldn't be a damned memoir of our missions aboard the Enterprise, and I'll continue to hold myself to that. If I tried to dictate every little interaction I had with Jim and Spock before things started getting <em>familiar</em> between us, I'd be writing until the cows come home. And if I know myself like I think I do, I don't have the patience for that kind of meticulousness.</p>
<p>So, I'll say what's important, and leave out the rest.</p>
<p>I was pleased to find that my first impression of Jim held up as we began working together. Of course, with the nature of that work being unbelievably chaotic (how I ever imagined this position would grant me any kind of stability is beyond me), any sense of pretense or prim formality swiftly fell away from our professional relationship. He learned that I don't care much for keeping my mouth shut just to keep the peace, and I learned that he generally appreciated that from me, even when he himself was the subject of my ire. We'd argue, sure, but when it was all said and done, Jim made sure to let me know in one way or another that he appreciated my counsel - so much so, in fact, that over time I felt that along with my duties down in sickbay as CMO, my place aboard the Enterprise was to be at Jim's side on the bridge, much to Spock's chagrin.</p>
<p>Oh, Spock. I realized a day or so after our first encounter that yes, indeed I had committed a faux pas in my introduction to the half-Vulcan Commander. In subsequent encounters with him I grappled with whether or not I should apologize to him, but something in the back of my mind told me that to bring it up at all might be just as boorish as what I'd done in the first place, so I never did. To his credit, he didn't seem to hold any ill-regard for me regarding our first meeting - I'd earn that from him in subsequent conversations.</p>
<p>While my professional relationship with Jim was slowly becoming more and more like friendship, Spock and I had a very different sort of relationship in our early associations.</p>
<p>We annoyed the hell out of each other.</p>
<p>Jim usually managed to keep the peace between us if he was present, but left to our own devices, it was almost like we'd find any little reason to disagree, any little reason for me to accuse him of being a computer or for him to accuse me of being <em>irrational.</em> Sometimes, it felt like a little game we played, our quips and jabs being moves on an imagined chessboard between us, the goal being to see which one of us would have the last word. But other times, it was more than a game. In spite of Spock's near constant assertion that he was a being of pure logic with no feeling, sometimes his accusations of me were <em>charged</em> in a way that made me think that was all just talk. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's deceit.</p>
<p>I understood much later that it was never Spock's intention to be deceitful - that was my own interpretation of what was a roiling internal struggle within him, the clash of his two opposed natures, forced to share space within the confines of one man. But at that time, any bit of irritation or pleasure I saw from Spock fed in to my belief that Spock <em>did</em> have feeling, that he understood my 'emotional' perspective, but was unwilling to admit it by way of his Vulcan virtues of pure logic and reason, and that frustrated me endlessly.</p>
<p>And although I had my suspicions about the First Officer, I must stress that for a long time, I had no understanding, Spock was an enigma. Every day was an opportunity to learn more about him, and every day I would receive the same conflicting results. I was, to use his word, fascinated with him, and at the same time, completely incapable of understanding him, which more often than not resulted in irritation, which seemed to resonate between us.</p>
<p>Given that, I don't think it's any surprise that out of the two of them, I found Jim to be more agreeable. As time went on, our professional consultations in which I'd hear his woes and offer what little advice I had would slowly become interspersed with meetings of a more personal nature. I found that Jim had began to see me not only as a person to confide to about the demands of his command, but also as someone to unwind with, someone to pass the time with in easy company.</p>
<p>And oh, did I enjoy that. While it must be said that neither of us were ever completely off-duty, I appreciated that Jim had allowed me access into another facet of himself. In some ways, this more private version of Jim was more reserved, in other ways, he was even more passionate than I already knew him to be - he told me about his childhood in Iowa, he told me about the tragedy he endured on Tarsus IV, he told me how studious he'd been in school, he told me about all the friends he'd made and lost, he told me about his love for classic literature. With every conversation I became more and more aware of a growing fondness within me, more aware that I was beginning to regard him as a true friend.</p>
<p>And once I realized that, I was forced to come to grips with myself in a way I'd been avoiding for years.</p>
<p>You see, although I considered myself capable of being friendly with others - I had then (and still do have) a certain charm about me, I suppose - to be <em>friends</em> with someone in the sense that there is a reciprocal intimacy shared between people was another matter. In truth, at that time, it had been a little over ten years since I'd felt that kind of connection to another person.</p>
<p>I knew that as Jim and I continued to meet, as he continued to share more and more of himself with me and I listened more than I reciprocated, I understood that in order for this to be an honest friendship, I needed to give him more than I was comfortable with. I needed to open up.</p>
<p>But that wasn't easy for me. For a while, I wasn't sure if it was even possible. Opening myself up to another person meant I was risking the possibility that they may encounter aspects of my personality that I did everything in my power to avoid within myself. All of my heartache, all of my suffering, all of those darknesses of the soul that I'd spent years pushing aside so I could <em>do good with my life</em>, rather than fall in to despair.</p>
<p>Fall in to despair - that may sound melodramatic, and with the wisdom of age it's easier for me to see that in a way, it was. But at the time, I believed that was what I was risking. I believed it because I'd been there before. When Jocelyn walked out of our marriage I'd been so devastated, so utterly broken that I lost sight of my purpose. Despite having recently graduated medical school I languished in my despair for months until my father came to me and made me see the light. He reminded me of what I was sacrificing, what I was throwing away by allowing my grief to consume me.</p>
<p>So for him, for Joanna, for every other person I would come to meet that that needed me, I decided my pain was not something I was prepared to face again. I had too much to lose. I could not allow myself to touch those dark feelings, for if I did I'd be forsaking my Oath, my promise to those around me that I would always be capable of providing care.</p>
<p>If I had been a wiser man, I would have recognized the need within me to seek out my own healing; but alas, shame and pride kept me from this understanding for much too long.</p>
<p>So for years, I'd shut a part of myself away, and became a new version of myself.</p>
<p>Doctor Leonard McCoy, your old family doctor, in space! With the charm of a good old fashioned southern boy and a streak of cantankerousness to keep people at arm's length. It worked. Well. It had gotten me this far.</p>
<p>And then I met Jim.</p>
<p>Looking back, I never stood a chance. I don't know how I resisted for as long as I did. Jim's got this way about him, it's what makes him such a good Captain - when you feel the impossibility of whatever situation you're in, and when he looks at you, you can <em>feel</em> his belief, his trust, his assurance in you, and <em>God</em> you'll do anything not to disappoint him. And while he never said to me 'Bones, won't you be my friend, too?' I felt it, and I was eager to do what it took.</p>
<p>Jim made what had seemed impossible to me before, seem not only possible, but easy.</p>
<p>It's all that damned charisma of his. Jim, you're too charming for your own damned good, and you know it, which makes it twice as bad.</p>
<p>I love you, Jim.</p>
<p>The first time I allowed Jim to take a peek at the bones in my proverbial closet, we were in Jim's quarters having drinks after a relatively peaceful day. I think we were a few days in to a star-mapping mission. I liked that assignment. Hardly any chaos.</p>
<p>I'd been curious for a while about Jim's romantic history. Completely innocently, or so I thought at the time - I'd mentioned my divorce to him in our first proper conversation, and since then all I knew about Jim's past or present loves was firstly, his love for the Enterprise, and secondly, his almost effortless ability to make women swoon for him. I was convinced there had to have been someone.</p>
<p>"Jim," I said, leaning back in my chair and tapping the edge of my glass with my little finger, "if you'll allow me my curiosity, I want to know how you managed to graduate the Academy without a ring on your finger. Surely you weren't committed to your starship all those years ago. Was there ever anyone you fancied, Jim? Or was it true, were you really a stack of books with legs?"</p>
<p>Jim gave an amused huff as he settled back in his chair as well, and regarded me with a searching gaze. "Bones, you're asking me why I'm not married?"</p>
<p>"Sure. A good looking, intelligent man like yourself, I'm sure you've had many suitors." I raised an eyebrow at him while raising my glass to my lips. "I understand your position now, of course, but I'm wondering if there was anyone who might have been." I paused. "If it's alright, Jim, I don't mean to pry."</p>
<p>I was worried for a moment that perhaps I had pried - Jim was looking down at his glass as he spun it in his hand, thinking to himself. He seemed a little sheepish. I was worried maybe he had been a stack of books, and I was embarrassing him.</p>
<p>But after that moment, Jim looked back up to me with earnestness. "It's alright, Bones. I'll tell you. There was someone, back in my Academy days."</p>
<p>"Who?" I asked, relief that I hadn't made an ass of myself quickly yielding in to avid curiosity.</p>
<p>"Her name was Janice."</p>
<p>A woman, of course. "Lovely name. How'd you meet?"</p>
<p>"We had class together. She was intelligent, beautiful-"</p>
<p>"A perfect match," I interrupted.</p>
<p>"- so I thought too, for a time," Jim agreed, and with a little sigh, he drank from his whiskey.</p>
<p>"Well?"</p>
<p>"She had my passion, Bones, she understood me, she wanted more than anything to prove herself and take command. She had what it takes, too, truly - I believed in her ability. I tried to support her, tried to help her in any way I could." He sighed again, and with more seriousness in his tone, he continued, "But Starfleet, for all the good it does, was, and still is inherently biased against female Commanders. It's inadmissible."</p>
<p>"Oh," I said in surprise, although as I thought back through all my knowledge of Starfleet officers above the rank of Lieutenant Commander, the evidence to support Jim's claim was clear as day. "Well, that's bullshit!"</p>
<p>"Yes!" Jim agreed passionately, "A relic of primitive thinking I'd thought we'd long since abandoned. And she knew that was what I believed."</p>
<p>I could already see where this was going, so I nodded sympathetically to him as he continued.</p>
<p>"We studied together, helped each other, but for every achievement I received, Starfleet gave her less, because she's a woman. I hated it, Bones, she didn't deserve it, it wasn't fair."</p>
<p>He took another drink, and I joined him. It sounded like hell.</p>
<p>"Once the disparity between us got large enough, she couldn't separate between my identity as her friend, her lover, and my identity as the future Commander she so desperately wanted to be. It made her bitter, Bones."</p>
<p>"Oh, Jim."</p>
<p>"It was a nightmare. There was nothing I could do for her, every thing I did was a slight against her. I had to break it off."</p>
<p>"Of course, that was only fair for the both of you." Jim sighed and nodded sullenly, and I continued. "That's horrible, Jim. I'm so sorry. There's nothing quite as tragic as the thwart of circumstance."</p>
<p>Jim took a long breath, and I reached over to his whiskey bottle to pour him another drink.</p>
<p>"Wise words, Bones," he told me, raising his glass and nodding in thanks to me.</p>
<p>"Oh, well. Your old country doctor's seen enough to know a few things, here and there. No one since then?"</p>
<p>"No one serious," Jim affirmed.</p>
<p>"I see."</p>
<p>Jim shrugged. "I'm not unhappy about it."</p>
<p>"Sure," I said, waving my hand about his quarters. "With all this, why would you be? You've done well for yourself, Jim. And there's always time. Assuming you don't get yourself killed before this mission's done." I knocked my knuckles against the table's surface in an act of superstition I sometimes indulged in.</p>
<p>Jim gave a tight smile, then his expression relaxed as he regarded me taking another drink.</p>
<p>"Bones."</p>
<p>"Hm?"</p>
<p>"What about you?"</p>
<p>"What about me?" My habits were kicking in. Jim didn't pay them any mind.</p>
<p>"You told me you'd been divorced, ten years ago." His expression fell a bit, concern once again gracing his features. "If you'd rather not talk about it, Bones..."</p>
<p>I felt that tug of emotion in my gut, that familiar indication that yes, I would rather not talk about it, thank you. But I recognized I'd be something of an ass not to say <em>something</em> to him, after I'd just put myself in his business like I had.</p>
<p>"Oh, Jim. It's a tale of woe. Are you up for it? I'd hate to ruin your evening, after you've just told me your own tragic story."</p>
<p>If I thought that'd dissuade him at all, I was dead wrong.</p>
<p>"Of course," he said, and I saw my sense of curiosity about the man before me mirrored in Jim's eyes. I realized with a strange sense of excitement that I <em>wanted </em>to tell him.</p>
<p>"Well Jim, for you to have a full understanding, I have to take you back through time." Such drama. "Back to Georgia, back to my junior year's high school dance. Picture it, fall, early evening, the gymnasium, the starkness of the lights, the gaudiness of the decor. Do you see it?"</p>
<p>"Mm. Sure," Jim said with amusement in his eyes.</p>
<p>"Alright. In that pool of adolescent fervor, I," I motioned to myself, "a humble boy. A mother's favorite, I must admit. I only went on her behest, she told me I'd be missing out if I let my nerves keep me from interacting with my peers."</p>
<p>"Oh?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Jim, I was awkward as all hell. Don't let this," I motioned to myself again, "fool you none. If you were born with your charms, Jim, I had to scrape together what I could after I realized that being shy doesn't get you anywhere."</p>
<p>Jim gave a small laugh. "I don't believe it."</p>
<p>"You're too kind." I took a drink. "So, being that as it was, I was making myself busy lingering by the hors d'oeuvres with a couple of equally awkward friends of mine. Us, dance? Absolutely not. At least that was the plan.</p>
<p>"I was standing there, chatting with my boys, I don't remember what we were discussing, probably some banal book we'd read or something, when to our great surprise, we were approached by a girl. A girl, Jim."</p>
<p>"Indeed!"</p>
<p>"She was in our grade, though I hadn't had class with her before. One of my friends knew her name. Jocelyn. She asked if she could join us. I may have been shy, Jim, but rude? Never. She looked jittery, too, like she needed the company. So we took her in to the fold. She talked with us, I think she'd heard whatever it was we were discussing before and indulged our enthusiasm for it."</p>
<p>I stopped.</p>
<p>"Jim, am I going on too much? Am I boring you?"</p>
<p>"No!" Jim assured me, leaning forward on to the table and resting his chin in his hand in rapt attention. "No, please continue."</p>
<p>"Alright. Well, we stayed there for probably... half an hour? To our continuing surprise, we found Jocelyn to be quite agreeable, a little bookish, like us. But that jitteriness I told you about, the reason for that came around after we'd been talking a while. Her ex."</p>
<p>"Oh dear," Jim said, indulging me. I appreciated it.</p>
<p>"An absolute piece of work by the name of Clay. I learned later she'd broken up with him right before the dance, and was trying to avoid him by hiding amongst me and my friends."</p>
<p>"Poor girl."</p>
<p>"Mm. He came up to us and practically started shouting at her, it was awful. She jumped a mile in the air and took my hand, and I don't know what came over me, but I stepped in front of her and wouldn't let him get any closer. My friends, bless them, they lined up beside me, protecting her. I think we only had to tell him to buzz off a few dozen times before he got the hint. Maybe a chaperone had come by and told him off, I don't really remember. My heart was beating out my chest, you understand."</p>
<p>"Of course. Bones, I knew it, you're exaggerating, you weren't as much of a wallflower as you say."</p>
<p>"I assure you, Jim, this was very out of character for me. Clay wasn't a small guy. How I didn't pass out from fright is beyond me."</p>
<p>I paused again. Jim apparently knew what I was thinking, and cut me off at the pass.</p>
<p>"Go on."</p>
<p>"Well, after that night, she started hanging out with us more. And, well, maybe because she'd taken my hand and not any of my friends', she took a special liking to me. And you know the rest, Jim, she was beautiful, witty, a little awkward, like me. We got along."</p>
<p>"You got along," Jim repeated, and did something funny with his eyebrows in a suggestive kind of way.</p>
<p>"Oh, stop. We started dating. She was my first girlfriend, Jim. My first love. Only love. High school sweethearts, we were. Everyone we knew, our friends, her family, my family, they loved us together. We were quite the pair. We kept dating, we went to the same university together, and I decided before I started medical school that I'd make an honest woman of her. So I did."</p>
<p>I stopped to take a breath. The pivot point of this story was approaching quickly, and I felt my anxiousness rise again, but I persevered.</p>
<p>"A year later, Joanna was born. And that, Jim, that more than anything really changed me. Getting married, you're still two adults, free to do as you like, but having a child, knowing that their happiness is all on you, that changes a person. I got serious. I was going to do what it took to give her the best life I could."</p>
<p>I started tapping the side of my glass with my fingers.</p>
<p>"I don't know what it's like in Starfleet Academy, but medical school is no joke, as I'm sure you can guess. It was hard on us, hard on our family. I wasn't there as much as I wanted to be, but it was a sacrifice we'd agreed to. I pushed myself, I wanted to get it all right the first time, quick as I could. I was dedicated."</p>
<p>I'd shifted my gaze down from Jim to watch my fingers move, and I bit my lip as I considered how to say what happened next.</p>
<p>"Clay, you remember, her ex-boyfriend from junior high. He'd turned himself around in university, majored in politics, I think. Decided to do something useful with his argumentative nature, I suppose. Anyway, he reached out to Jocelyn and apologized to her for how he'd treated her in his youth. It seemed genuine, Jocelyn showed me. And I wasn't the jealous type, Jim, I wasn't going to tell her what to do or not do, say or not say. I wasn't going to doubt her. That wasn't my place."</p>
<p>I paused, longer this time, thinking. Jim reached out to me and took my forearm in his hand.</p>
<p>"Thanks, Jim," I muttered, before shaking my head and looking back up to him. I'd finish this, damn it. It was nearly over anyway.</p>
<p>"Well, they started talking again. It seemed innocent enough, at first. She told me about him, they were friends. I kept studying, I kept working, and I suppose the time I spent away gave her enough time to turn her mind to infidelity, because that's ultimately what she did. I stopped hearing about him, that should've been a clue. I thought maybe he'd moved on with his career, found someone else, but I was wrong.</p>
<p>"She at least gave me the kindness of letting me graduate before she wrecked my life. She hid it from me for a year, before she decided she'd had enough of the deceit and made her choice. She confessed. She told me she was leaving me for him. She told me to keep Joanna. She was starting over.</p>
<p>"So she left. I don't remember much of anything that happened for... three months. A whole season, I spent alone in our house. Joanna stayed with my parents. I couldn't be what she needed. I couldn't care for her. I couldn't care for myself."</p>
<p>Jim's grip on my forearm tightened - he hadn't let me go. My gaze had wandered away from him as I'd spoken, and I found I couldn't look him in the eye. I looked at his hand.</p>
<p>"It was bad. My father eventually came around and talked sense in to me. Told me I couldn't keep living like that. He was right. He helped me figure out what I was going to do. Got in touch with my sister, Donna, when I realized I couldn't stay."</p>
<p>Jim's hand moved down my arm to clasp mine. It was kind. I gave his hand a squeeze.</p>
<p>"And, well, I shot myself in to space, dropped off Jo with her aunt and uncle, and now here we are, all these years later."</p>
<p>The room was quiet as we sat in everything I'd said, Jim still clasping my hand in his. I could feel his gaze on me, but I couldn't look him in the face.</p>
<p>It makes me wonder what I would've seen.</p>
<p>"I told you," I said weakly, shaking Jim's hand in mine. "I told you it was a downer."</p>
<p>"I'm so sorry, Bones," Jim said in a low, solemn tone. He was pained for me, I could hear it in his voice.</p>
<p>That was too much for me. I wrestled my hand from his under the guise of downing the rest of my whiskey.</p>
<p>"Thanks, Jim. Sorry. I... I appreciate you listening to me."</p>
<p>Jim hesitated, drawing his hand back, before raising his glass as well and following my lead. "Of course, Bones. Anytime, really." He set his empty glass back on the table. "Anytime."</p>
<p>I finally managed to look up to him. His expression was intense in a way I wasn't expecting - he was searching me for something, maybe assurance that I believed him.</p>
<p>I was happy to give it to him.</p>
<p>"Alright, Jim. Anytime."</p>
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